Fifty
by Amory Vain
Summary: Logan's relationship with Alec develops over 50 chapters. Parts work on a standalone basis as well, for the most part. Logan/Alec; warnings for alcohol, dub-con at one point, and implied rough sex.
1. 01: First Kiss

**01/50: First Kiss [[107 Words]]**  
_Dark Angel_  
Alec/Logan  
Set post-Manticore, S2  
Alcohol + kissing.

* * *

You have to be drunk. You don't feel drunk, but sometimes alcohol has a way of hitting you suddenly, too fast for you to realize you'd past tipsy before you did anything stupid, before you were

making out with Logan Cale.

He's obviously been drinking the same thing as you, because his fingers are curling in the hair at the base of your neck and _he's_ kissing _you_, too. It's hard, it's rough, and you're probably hurting him, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.

And that's okay, you think, because you're drunk, both of you, and that will be excuse enough in the morning.


	2. 02: Empire

02/50: Empire [[75 Words]]  
_Dark Angel_  
Alec/Logan  
Set post-Manticore, S2  
Sex.

* * *

"Empire-building," he'd called it once, indulgent, wry smile in place. Max had countered with her own synonym—"He's a _slut_, you mean."

And it's true, he tells himself. This means nothing to him.

Logan is just one more fuck, one more name on Alec's list of conquests.

One more set of rumpled, stained sheets.

One more voice gasping out his name in the near-dark.

One more warm body, nothing more.

And that's fine. It _is_. Really.


	3. 03: Falter

**03/50: Falter [[223 Words]]**  
_Dark Angel_  
Alec/Logan  
Set post-Manticore, S2  
Angst. Alcohol.

* * *

It was bad enough that it had happened; did Alec have to come back and rub his face in it?

"What do you want?" It was easy to be angry, the emotion eclipsing regret and maybe something else.

Alec stood in the doorway, uncharacteristically awkward. "I—" he hesitated, "I just—

"Never mind." And he was turning, (running) walking briskly back the way he'd come.

Logan shut the door. Why had he come back?

Why had he _knocked_, suddenly so formal? Alec always just used the window. It made no sense, Logan thought as he turned, pulled towards the liquor cabinet in his kitchen.

_  
Unless_. Unless Alec thought of last night as less of the mistake that Logan kept trying to tell himself it was. Unless Alec wanted to tell him this, but was afraid of a reaction like the one Logan had just given him—and wanted to smooth things over with respect for formalities like deadbolted front doors.

Unless. Logan raised the glass to his lips, swallowing automatically, willing himself to stop following this train of though. It was silly; he wasn't _gay _(Max. He was in love, head over heels with _Max_), and Alec wasn't—the relationship sort. Alec wanted frivolity, the occasional (or regular) anonymous one-night stand. A _fling_. And Logan wasn't gay. The whole thing was foolish.

Unless.


	4. 04: Compliment

**04/50: Compliment [[132 Words]]**  
_Dark Angel_  
Alec/Logan  
Set post-Manticore, S2  
Angst. Alcohol. Cursing. Kissing.

* * *

Fuck. It had been hard enough to summon the courage to do this the first time. Alec had slipped in through the window, deciding to forgo the front door on his second attempt to talk.

Logan had been drinking. _Isn't this how mistakes were made last time?_

Still, Alec had spoken, his own glass (or pitcher—you could never drink just a glass at Crash) of liquid courage working its way through his veins. "I like you."

Logan laughed, a harsh bark that shattered the developing silence. "I guess that's a compliment, coming from you. You're so _exclusive_ with your affections."

He ignored the sarcasm hiding behind that remark, bolting forward before he could think about it. Déjà vu. A kiss, and there was no more talking.

Actions speak louder than, anyway.


	5. 05: Glass

**05/50: Glass [[89 Words]]  
**_Dark Angel_  
Alec/Logan  
Set post-Manticore, season two.  
Angst. Language. Implied sex.

* * *

Maybe this was all Logan wanted, Alec thought, his view of the city below fading as his breath fogged the windowpane. Someone adventurous, someone willing to fuck on the kitchen table, in the shower, up against the glass of Logan's picture window. _Adventurous_, he knew, had always just been a nice way of saying _whore_.

If the shoe fits, though—and it did, Alec supposed—he might as well enjoy it.

After all, it wasn't going to be him having to wipe everything down with Windex in the morning.


	6. 06: Honour

**06/50: Honour [[88 Words]]**  
_Dark Angel  
_Logan/Alec  
Set post-Manticore, s2.  
Non-graphic sexual references.

* * *

Logan was in love with Max; Alec had no illusions about that. Alec was just a prop, a stand-in. Logan was making do.

So it wasn't like he was anything special, Alec mused, running his fingers through Logan's hair and pushing his face further down—oh _there_—but still. He could've _made do_ with Asha, or any number of the willing young bodies for rent downtown.

But he hadn't. Logan had chosen _Alec._

He was just a stand-in, Alec knew, but he was here, and that was something.


	7. 07: Work

**07/50: Work [[158 Words]]  
**_Dark Angel  
_Alec/Logan, Alec/OMC  
Set post-Manticore, s2.  
Dubious consent.

* * *

Distraction, they'd said. _He'd_ said—Logan assigned you the position, and if you'd had any (hopes) delusions about his feelings, everything is more than clear now.

Max is upstairs somewhere, tearing apart the target's office in search of a disk or a file (Eyes Only hadn't been clear on exactly how the information would be stored), and you're downstairs, _distracting_ the security guard.

Distraction. Logan really does think you're a whore. Cheap, expendable. _Distracting_.

It's anger that keeps you from punching the guy, that lets him push you back against the desk and cover your mouth with his own. It's anger, and maybe shame (shame for not knowing, for allowing yourself to think that _maybe_—) you feel when he drops to his knees, fingers at your fly and lips, tongue, teeth on your skin.

If you're a whore, Logan's just another customer. Let him see the evidence tomorrow; let him see that you can be indifferent, too.


	8. 08: Jealous

**08/50: Jealous [[136 Words]]**  
_Dark Angel_  
Logan/Alec, references to Alec/OMC  
Set post-Manticore, s2.  
Implied violent sex.

* * *

"Alec—"

This is casual, you _know_ that. Just a way to pass the time, a no-strings attached sexual outlet.

You've got no more claim to Alec than the next man or woman—so it shouldn't bother you, the purple-red mark he's got sucked onto the skin below his navel. It shouldn't bother you that he's not apologizing, not even trying to hide it.

You shouldn't be angry.

"What's the matter?" He _knows_, god damn him, and he's smirking.

"Nothing. Never mind." And it's true; it _is_ nothing. Just physicalities, just _sex_, and if he doesn't care, you sure as hell won't.

You make him face you as you fuck him, that angry red brand a wall between you. He leaves an hour later with hand-shaped bruises on his hips, and that shouldn't be so satisfying.


	9. 09: Strings

**09/50: Strings [[119 Words]]  
**_Dark Angel  
_Logan/Alec, Alec/Others  
Set post-Manticore, s2.  
Non-graphic sexual references.

* * *

The only thing he's ever given you are those bruises, those retaliatory marks you find around your waist in the shower the morning after. You can't help but smile, despite yourself, despite how stupid it all is, because that's not indifference. That's _something_, some sort of message, and you like it.

It's the only thing that ties you together, and you can't let that go.

So you seek them out, those men and women that will mark you, teeth prints and scratches and the faint scent of someone else's perfume, just to see if Logan will react.

He does, exacting his revenge across your shoulders, around your wrists, between your thighs. You count every fading, yellow-blue stain a victory.


	10. 10: Semantics

**10/50: Semantics [[330 Words]]  
**_Dark Angel  
_Logan/Alec, references to Alec/OMC, Max  
Set post-Manticore, s2.  
Non-graphic sexual references.

* * *

He thought _what_? Your mouth is hanging open, you realize, and you manage to pull yourself back together as Max speaks.

"Geez, Alec." She shakes her head, sitting back in her chair. "I think I'm with Logan on this one."

You nod, appreciating the support, the voice of _reason_, but Alec scowls. "Of _course_ you are. What else is new?"

"Well," she snaps, and why do they always end up bickering like this? You should intervene, but even if you knew what to say, you'd never be able to get a word in edgewise. "Maybe if you knew the difference between 'distraction' and 'blowjob,' I'd side with you more often."

His grip tightens around the drink in his hand, smearing the condensation along the side of the glass. "How was I supposed to know? 'Decoy does whatever he has to,' that's—"

"What Manticore would say, not Logan! God, Alec, sometimes you can be so _dense_." She picks up her own glass and stands. "I'm gonna need another drink if I have to spend the night working with you two."

The moment she's out of earshot, you turn to him, needing to make sure he understands. "Alec, you _know_ I wouldn't put you in that position—"

"Really?" He cuts you off, that infuriating, sarcastic mask of his back in place. "What do you call the position you had me in last night?"

"That's different!"

"Is it?" He's watching you carefully, and you're not sure what to say anymore. You're always angry around him, lately, and _this_ is just—not helping things.

"What do you want, Alec?" And that was the wrong thing to say, but you're confused, and when did it become so hard to find the right thing to say to _Alec_?

He shakes his head, downs the rest of his drink and drops the glass on the table. "Nothing. I'm out of here."

You watch him leave, wondering what you're going to tell Max when she returns.


End file.
